


In Your Absence

by Xygdrasil



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fatherhood, Gen, JeraltWeek2020, Mercenary Life, Pre-Prologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xygdrasil/pseuds/Xygdrasil
Summary: After losing his wife, Jeralt knew he couldn't keep Byleth in the monastery. However, he was unsure of whether he could raise Byleth alone, especially when it meant having to raise her as a mercenary.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: Jeralt Week 2020!





	In Your Absence

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution for Day 1 of Jeralt Week: Fatherhood. Enjoy!

The light of a flame flickered within the darkness, wavering before steel eyes, which turned to look at the bundle of cloth lying in wait before him. He did not question his next course of action. He could not allow himself to hesitate. For both of their sakes. The flames caught and spread quickly from the cloth, just as he had hoped. The night began to light up from the man made spectacle, and he took this moment to hide in the shadows away from the room, waiting.

"Fire!"

A single voice cried out barely moments later as it began to reach the other rooms in the knight's quarters. A chorus of panic arose soon after, the flames continuing to grow and work towards engulfing the monastery. The horses in the stables began to neigh and stomp their hooves, restless, as it began to spread further into the monastery. The sound of heavy footsteps hit against the floor, doors slamming open as startled knights exited their smoke-filled rooms. Feigning surprise, Jeralt rushed out alongside his fellow knights from the entrance of the area, questions starting to arise. He began to call out orders to stop the fire, knights splitting off to retrieve buckets towards the lake. He ordered the mages to cast ice spells to block off the advancement of the fire and quell the flames. Students, knights, and faculty were out at this point, working together to extinguish the fire, and then the damaged aftermath of it.

As they surveyed the losses caused by it, Jeralt retrieved the bundle of cloth in his room. It was completely burnt, causing the contents of the bundle to burn badly enough to make it completely unidentifiable. He let out a blood-curdling yell, allowing it to echo through the night. As others gathered, they found the Captain cradling the burnt bundle, his body hunched over, stricken with grief.

-

"Captain Jeralt, wait! Please!" Jeralt did not turn to look back, despite the pleading. Desperate footsteps followed erratically behind him, gauntlets grabbing at his shoulders yet not strong enough to shake his resolve. "I'm sorry for what happened... I don't know what to- I understand-"

Jeralt stopped, turning to look back at Alois. Young, earnest knight. Loyal to those who saved him, sheltered him, raised him. He was much the same way before, remembering the blood he had spilled for Rhea, the life he had nearly lost for her sake. Yet here they stood, years later. It was not loyalty that kept him here any longer. Fear and mistrust coursed through his veins at the mere mention of her ever since he lost Sitri. Ever since he found that his child had no heartbeat. Could not cry or even laugh. A quiet husk that his beloved left behind for him. And yet...

"I cannot stay." Quiet and simple. There was nothing more for him to say. He turned back around, continuing on his path, leaving the defeated knight to fall to his knees, watching the back of his Captain grow distant and fade away into the night.

As soon as he knew that Alois would not follow him, Jeralt derailed from the path, knowing exactly where he had to go first. An abandoned chapel. Once inside, he spotted the hastily thrown pile of wooden beams that had fallen from the chapel, and began to pull them aside. A small bundle lay safely tucked into the corner of it, exactly where he had left it before the fire.

"Ah... I knew I could count on you to keep quiet while I was away." Jeralt let out a dry chuckle at his half-hearted comment, dusting off his hands. As he reached down to grab it, tiny hands reached back out to him. He paused, surprised, before a small, genuine smile reached his face.

"Dad's here now."

-

"Dad! Let me come with you!"

Several years have passed since then, yet Jeralt was still unsure of how to raise Byleth properly, especially when he was running a mercenary group. The father in question scratched his head, a frown on his face as his daughter walked up to him. Despite her earnest request, her face remained stoic. Most wouldn't believe she actually wanted to come, but he knew better.

"No. It's far too dangerous." Jeralt shook his head, crossing his arms. "Stay at camp with Lykos." He sighed as Byleth looked at her feet. Though no expression had changed, he knew he had just let her down. He took a moment to think, before letting out another sigh and kneeling down on a knee. Putting a hand on her shoulder, she looked at him as he leveled himself to her. "Tell you what, kid. I'll tell Lykos to teach you."

"Lykos won't teach me how to fight though."

"How do you know?"

"I already asked." Jeralt chuckled, which did not aid his daughter's mood in the slightest. He let out an amused exhale, reaching over to ruffle her blue hair, messing it up.

"Alright, alright. I'll talk to Lykos, and he can teach you what we do while I'm on the job. When I get back, I'll show you how to fight. Then we can see about you coming along when you can prove to me you can handle yourself."

"You mean it?"

"Of course, kid. Trust your old man."

"You're not that old, dad."

"Hah! Well, thanks!"

-

Jeralt was getting better at deciphering Byleth's emotions by way of action, and especially by her eyes. None of the mercenary members were able to quite tell, and would often cast sheepish glances at Jeralt so he could decipher. Despite not being able to connect with any of them emotionally, Byleth got along surprisingly well with the other mercenaries. They would often work together, both on missions and the more regular duties at the camp. She was also quite competent, if not excelling, at swordsmanship, thanks to both Jeralt and Lykos' training, allowing her to bond even more with the others through sparring and training.

One day, over grub, one of the veteran mercenary members pat Byleth's head out of habit, much to everyone's surprise. Byleth stopped eating, spoon mid trajectory to her mouth, causing the rest of the mercenaries to freeze in quiet horror. Was this a line that shouldn't be crossed?

"I- sorry! That was out of habit! Y'see, my kids..." The mercenary trailed off, watching as Byleth closed her eyes. She continued to eat, gently nudging the mercenary's head while chewing. It was at that moment, for the first time, everyone had understood perfectly how she felt amongst them. It was the first time Jeralt had seen a clear display of joy from her, with each pat of the head. He made a mental note to continue doing that, and quietly thanked his fellow mercenaries for helping provide even a bit of happiness for his daughter in this rough, mercenary life.

Jeralt was never sure of how to raise Byleth, and was still unsure if he was doing things right or not, but it seemed like she enjoyed the company of him and the crew, at least.

-

Flames ferociously blazed through the forest, trapping the mercenaries in smoke and fire. Jeralt began to cough from the inhalation of smoke, eyes stinging as he tried to lead his group out of it. They eventually made it to the edge of the forest, escaping the worst of the fire. Jeralt watched the flames and smoke rose from the forest as he and his group caught their breath, gulping in slightly fresher air. The way the flames spread reminded him of the flames that he started in the monastery, fifteen years ago. 

"Captain! They're still on us!"

A fatal mistake. He had allowed himself to be distracted by old memories.

"Shit-" Before he could even respond, a javelin barely missed him, grazing his cheek. Jeralt looked up to where thick foliage still lined within their path, finding the source of the javelin rearing his arm back, ready to strike him again. Jeralt managed to raise his shield in time, the javelin embedding itself into it. However, it had not been thrown. The surprising weight forced him to lower the shield, the enemy having held onto the shaft to close the distance between them. With his other arm, he held a dagger, aiming right for Jeralt's throat.

"Captain!"

Blood splattered across his bewildered face, blinking as the tip of the dagger lightly nicked his throat, leaving a small cut. The body crumpled before him as a blade was pulled from his body, wet with his fresh blood.

"The battlefield is no place to have idle thoughts." A hand reached out to Jeralt, his eyes moving from the hand to the source of the voice. "Isn't that right, Dad?" Blood dripped from Byleth's face, her expression remaining as emotionless as usual. However, he could notice the relief reflecting in her eyes as he grasped her hand to help him up.

"You're right, sorry about that. I owe you one, kid." Jeralt wiped the blood from his face as his group gathered. Soon after, Byleth's group caught up as well, breathing heavily when they finally caught up.

"The enemies-"

"Already been dealt with, Cap'n." A mercenary from Byleth's group cut in, catching his breath. "She... She took 'em all down. We could barely keep up with 'er pace." Jeralt looked to his daughter, feeling a pit in his stomach when he realized that such news wasn't so surprising to him anymore.

"That's the Ashen Demon for you."

Byleth, completely covered in blood, did not react in any way, opting to simply brandish her blade to clean off some of the blood before sheathing it with an effortless twirl. She made no effort or complaint about the blood that soaked her clothes and splattered on her face and hair. Instead, she turned her attention to Jeralt, awaiting the next order. As her father, he did not fail to see the look in her eyes that gave away how she felt. He could not stop himself from reaching over and putting a comforting hand on her head.

"...Good work. Our job's done. Let's head back for our payment and rest up."

-

The third time he had seen those flames, the two of them had lost someone close to them again, three years later. Neither of them shed tears, though it was probably more accurate to say they couldn't. Flames tore through their camp, an alarming sight to return from a job to. The screams of the mercenaries and suppliers they had in their camp was overwhelming, ringing in the returning mercenaries' ears as they rushed in to quell the flames and save who they could. Like that time so long ago, Jeralt ordered his men to do what they could, but this time, genuine panic rose within him. He had so much more to lose here, now. His eyes shifted to Byleth, who ignored his orders, running into the fire without any hesitation.

"Kid, come back!" Jeralt's orders fell on deaf ears as she disappeared into the thickening smoke. He had no time to chase after her despite wanting to. As the mercenaries worked together to quell the flame with both ice magic and water they could find, they eventually cleared it out, but not without suffering heavy losses. As both injured mercenaries and corpses began to be pulled out into the clearing, Jeralt desperately searched through for Byleth. He could hear wracked sobs and curses throughout his people as they clung to the corpses. He hoped that he would not have to do the same soon.

"Kid!" Jeralt soon found Byleth kneeling by a familiar, albeit ruined, tent. She cradled something in her arms, her body hunched over. As Jeralt moved in closer, he understood why her form had given off such a familiar sense of grief. Lykos' lifeless body lay in her arms, half of his body burnt from the flames. Though she did not shed any tears, though her expression did not change, Jeralt felt something in his chest break when she turned to look at him. Of course she felt like this. Lykos was practically the father who raised her. The father he wasn't able to be for her throughout the years since they had left the monastery.

"Dad..." Jeralt flinched, though his gaze had never left hers. She didn't say anything else, instead using an unsteady hand to reach out for him. It only took him a moment to reach her side, gently pulling at her shoulder to let her rest her head against his chest. She turned to bury her face, both hands grasping at his tunic. He frowned, resting his other hand on her head, the only way he knew how to comfort her.

Byleth did not shed any tears that day, but it was the closest thing he had seen that expressed anything so strongly. He simply wished it were under happier circumstances and of joy, not this. 

-

They arrived at Remire by midday, the village gracious enough to lend their hospitality to the remainder of their mercenary group after another job well done. Grub and ale was provided at the tavern, villagers and mercenaries alike mingling and just enjoying the day. Byleth and Jeralt were no exception. Crashing their wooden mugs together, the two downed ale after ale with hearty plates of food. Though many remarked at their lack of similarity in appearance, none could deny that she was his daughter simply by the way they drank together. She had begun to smile more, though slight, and not very often at anyone other than Jeralt and fellow mercenaries in the group.

"Must be good ale for you to be in such a good mood, kid." Jeralt remarked, his own smile appearing as he placed an empty mug down on the table.

"I could say the same about you, Dad." Byleth replied, heartily digging into her plate of grilled herring. "It's been awhile since we all had the chance to relax like this." She said after a moment, taking some time to chew. "They also have good fish." That earned her a chuckle from Jeralt.

"We'll have to fish some more some time." His tone was wistful. They had very few chances to fish in between jobs, but the two enjoyed the quiet mornings when they could peacefully gather fish for the company. "Maybe after the job in the Kingdom, we can take a longer break." A waitress stopped by to place more mugs of ale, leaving with a big grin as Jeralt thanked her. "It's far from here, though. We'll have to leave at dawn, so make sure you get some rest tonight." Byleth mumbled 'okay, okay' around the mouthful of food, eliciting another chuckle from the usually serious mercenary captain.

Though he had grown even more unsure of raising Byleth since the loss of Lykos, these were probably one of the more happier moments of his rather long life. He could only hope that the two of them could continue to live like this together. Jeralt watched as Byleth left to turn in for the night to get ready for their departure at dawn. As her figure disappeared, he looked up at the night sky, a gentle breeze ruffling his hair. He smiled as he closed his eyes, enjoying the peaceful sensation under the starry night sky that reminded him of his younger years.

"Don't worry yourself over us. She's grown into a fine young lady under my guidance, hasn't she?" 


End file.
